


Il Sogno Galleggiante

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conte Sephiroth holds extravagant parties in the floating world of Venice, however, this attracts all kinds of scoundrels, including a group of thieves led by Cloud Strife. Can Cloud resist the decadent nature of the Conte's lifestyle and remember his goal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Il Sogno Galleggiante

**Author's Note:**

> A writing exercise. Inspired by 'The Lies of Locke Lamora', which is a brilliant book, ignore its sequels though. It's being posted in snippets here and at my journal.

&lt;!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --&gt; 

The night was oppressively humid, and the many canals of Venice were lined with ladies fanning themselves in the heat. Their corseted bodies sweating just as badly as any paupers in the poor quarters. Cloud walked through them, relieving them of their purses as he stopped to flirt. It was easy game, and they would be distracted by his serious tone and false-shyness enough that he probably could have stolen their petticoats without them noticing.

 

It helped that he was dressed as a respectable gentleman. He was sweating under the wig he'd been forced to wear, but no one seemed to care. He applied a little more powder to his face in an attempt to look like he cared about his appearance before his eyes drifted to the boat that he was attempting to weave his way towards.

 

His target was the man on the boat. He had long silver hair tied back in a plait down his back and a mask covering the top half of his face. He sat on the throne in the centre of the boat, watching the party disinterestedly, his legs crossed and his chin in his hands. He was Conte Sephiroth, one of the most powerful men in Venice.

 

Cloud saw that Zack had managed to get himself distracted by the buffet already. Truly, the decadence of Venice rubbed off on Zack all too easily. He was happily being fed by the serving girl, swilling it down with more wine that Cloud had agreed he could have. The other's make-up was coming off, revealing his common tanned skin underneath. Cloud sighed and decided if Zack got found out he'd deny all knowledge of him.

 

“Oh, excuse me sir,” a girl said as she bumped into him. He bowed to her silently. She turned pink, her beautiful dark eyes obviously only just taking in his appearance. He noticed that she had rather large... assets... that were tightly bound into a corset. He also noticed that she wore the crest of an influential family on her kerchief, which was hanging in her hand where she'd been dabbing sweat from her chest.

 

“Cresenzo De Luca,” Cloud introduced himself with his rich man alias. The girl blushed.

 

“Signore, it is hardly appropriate for us to be introduced this way! I should have someone known to me do it!” she protested, fanning herself with bright eyes. Cloud nodded and bowed to her.

 

“I suggest you find a man who could introduce us in the proper manner than,” he suggested. The girl nodded and, as planned, her eyes turned to the boat where the important guests were. She began to walk, Cloud following behind her at such a way that it made it at least seem somewhat proper. He boarded the boat in time to hear her asking her father to introduce her to the 'charming signore who all the ladies were saying was a rich countryman'.

 

Cloud took his opportunity to check out the structure of the boat. It seemed pretty stable for all intents and purposes, but also it only had one way to get below deck meaning anything stolen would have to be done covertly and someone would need to check the entrance.

 

“Signore.”

 

He turned, seeing the girl's father flanked by his target. Both were wearing masks and Cloud felt suddenly underdressed without one. He bowed deeply.

 

“Sindaco Lockhart,” he said, addressing the mayor with the respect he deserved. The mayor seemed happy to be recognised and he offered his own jovial little wave. He was honestly a nice man, if a bit misguided at times.

 

“I am Cresenzo De Luca, from Florence,” he said straightening a little. “I had the fortune to bump into your daughter but propriety insisted that we should not be introduced by coincidence alone.”

 

“You have a sweet tongue, Signore De Luca,” the Mayor said, chuckling. The Conte said nothing, green eyes boring into Cloud's.

 

“I present Sindaco Lockhart's daughter, Signorina Tifa,” the Conte said, gesturing to the girl. Cloud kissed her hand but it was not the mayor's daughter that was making his pulse race. He was certain that this man knew of his plan, had seen though him straight away.

 

“And now we are proper,” the mayor said, cheerfully, putting his arm around his daughter's waist. “And we must leave. I believe the Conte had some business with Signore De Luca.”

 

Cloud began to panic, wondering what on earth the Conte could want to do with him. He tried to control his emotions, hoping that the other would think his sweating was just a reaction to the heat and not abject panic.

 

“Conte... I am not sure what you wish from me. I am hardly a man of notice within Venice,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. The Conte said nothing for a long moment.

 

“The Signore Zachary has been drinking my best wine all night, and he has convinced one of my serving girls, a Signorina Aeris, to run away with him. I wish for him to leave my party and believe him to have come with you,” the Conte said, gazing onto the shore. Cloud sighed in relief. It was just Zack getting into trouble.

 

“He certainly has been the life of the party so far, Conte. I will put the word about that it would be best for someone to escort him back to the rooms he has rented,” he said. Sephiroth turned to him, jewelled mask gleaming in the torchlight.

 

“When you have done so, please return to my boat, Signore. It has been a while since I have had someone from outside Venice attend one of my parties,” the Conte said. Cloud just blinked stupidly. “And have someone get you a mask, Signore.”

 

_ ***** _

 

Cloud found Zack shoving finger food into his mouth while talking to a pretty, but lower class, girl. He scowled and stomped over. Zack's eyes were slightly glazed over from alcohol and his mask had been pushed up from his face so it no longer hid the scar on his cheek.

 

“Ah, Cresenzo!” Zack said cheerfully, reaching out to pull Cloud towards him by the elbow. Cloud let himself be pulled, awkwardly bowing to the serving girl.

 

“Signore, the Conte wishes for you to retire for the night,” Cloud said, trying to maintain some distance between himself and Zack. The other probably didn't realise what a commotion he was creating after all, but Cloud needed to be above suspicion.

 

“But the party's just starting!” Zack said, trying to reach for more wine. Cloud took it from him before he could get it to his lips.

 

“No. You're leaving,” Cloud said firmly. He pulled Zack by the elbow away from the serving girl and towards a quieter part of the canal-side.

 

“Look, I'm so close to getting into that boat. I don't need you causing a scene. Go home and sober up, _please_,” Cloud shook him a bit on the final word to try to make him listen. Zack's eyes focused.

 

“Sure, sure... You want me to prepare stage two?” he asked. Cloud nodded, already going through things in his mind. Genesis would, no doubt, already have new identities prepared for them the moment they left the party, and Angeal was hovering around somewhere pretending to be a guard ready to help spirit Cloud away if things got bad.

 

“If things go well, I'll collect Angeal and Genesis and continue the plan,” Cloud said finally. “If not, we cut our losses and leave Venice for a while.”

 

Zack nodded and then reached into his pocket, taking out a compact of powder. He began to dab it onto Cloud's cheeks. “You're not keeping on top of your dandy image, Signore _Capo_,” Zack said mockingly. Cloud scowled. It had been a decision by them as a group to led Cloud become their leader and primary schemer, but Cloud detected that Zack wasn't really happy with it. Zack wanted to be the leader, wanted to be the hero, but as it was he was demoted to sidekick. He and Cloud had both joined the group at the same time, so it had smarted his pride even more.

 

It was probably what this miniature rebellion was about...

 

“It's a pretty elaborate plan...” Zack said, and Cloud could detect the concern in his voice. He sighed and glanced around them, making sure they weren't being overlooked. He then slid his gloved hand over Zack's cheek and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

 

“I'll be fine Zack,” he promised, pulling away. Zack's eyes were warm again when Cloud pulled back.

 

“Make sure you are,” he said before he disappeared into the night. Cloud sighed, removing his wig to run his hands through the sweat soaked hair beneath. It was truly too hot...

 

He stared out across the water, watching the torchlight reflected in it, and remembered a time, years ago, when it had seemed he would never see another summer...

 

_ ***** _

 

_The Plague had been vicious. Cloud had sat, huddled in his house. His mother was sick. She... she barely looked human any more. Pustules had formed under her arms and when they burst she would cry out in pain. She didn't recognise him any more._

 

_Cloud stayed in the bedroom with her, watching her ragged breathing and wild eyes. He had no where else to go. He was afraid to go downstairs, where the dead body of his father waited. The bloated corpse was terrifying and he didn't want to go near it. It's unseeing eyes made him think of the dead fish he sometimes brought home from the docks for his mother to fillet._

 

_He heard a noise from downstairs and jumped. He automatically thought of thieves, but then reminded himself that no one would break into a house that had a cross painted on the door. He huddled into a smaller ball against the wall, hoping who ever it was would take away the body of his dead father._

 

_He heard heavy bootprints on the stairs and then the door to the bedroom opened. The man stepped in. He was horrifying to Cloud's hunger-starved mind. He wore a long, black hooded cloak and his face was covered by a beaked mask that Cloud would later discover was called the _ Medico Della Peste _, The Plague Doctor's Mask. He reeked of vinegar, a smell that Cloud could detect even over the stench of his mother's corpse._

 

“_Ah, this one is as good as taken,” the man said, poking his mother's corpse with a long stick. She cried out as she was touched and Cloud twitched where he sat. That caused the man to turn to him, regarding him with thoughtful eyes._

 

“_Take her down to the cart,” the man ordered, though he was watching Cloud. A few men, their mouths covered with cloth and their clothes filthy with the various bodily fluids of plague victims, moved to pick Cloud's mother up. He stared as they removed her body. Were they going to help her?_

 

_Cloud had only ever heard of the bodies of the dead being removed from the houses..._

 

“_You seem unaffected boy,” the man said and Cloud nodded slowly._

 

“_Stand up... and remove your shirt,” the man ordered. Cloud did as he was told, removing his dirty shirt and sliding it up over his head. The doctor lifted his arms using the stick, leaning forward to see under Cloud's armpits to check for boils. Cloud remained still, even though the smell of vinegar grew stronger the closer the man got._

 

“_You really don't have the Plague. I guess you are lucky. Come with me,” the doctor gestured for Cloud to leave the room. He took one look at his room, the sweat-soaked bed and the overflowing chamberpot, before he stepped down the stairs._

 

_He paused at the door, unsure if he was allowed out. The doctor just walked out and then paused, waiting for him. He hung his head as he stepped from the door, feeling like he was betraying the law by leaving the plague-ridden house._

 

“_There. Now, go stand with the others. Over there. Go on,” the doctor urged impatiently. Cloud looked up and saw a group of confused looking children all gathered, huddling against each other. He walked towards them, hesitantly joining their ranks._

 

“_They're taking them to _Poveglia_...” A boy next to Cloud whispered. Cloud's eyes widened as he looked back at the cart, his mother groaning as they dumped her on top of the other plague ridden corpses._

 

My mother is still alive! _ He made to run towards the pit but the boy grabbed his arm._

 

“_There's nothing you can do... They'll burn her... She was dead the moment she caught the Plague after all...” he said. Cloud struggled against him but didn't break free. The boy was older, stronger and in general better shape than Cloud._

 

“_You should pray for her... And the man they brought out too... Your father? Yeah...”_

 

_Cloud turned to the boy, looking at him with large, tear-filled eyes. The boy was the traditionally dark complexion of the Italians, his dark hair and tanned skin marking him as one of the poorer people. He had bright blue eyes though, that were staring at Cloud in a concerned way._

 

“_My name's Zack. What's yours...?”_

 

_Cloud didn't reply. In fact, Cloud wouldn't speak again until after his tenth summer. Looking back, Cloud realised how selfish and absorbed he had been. Zack had lost both of his parents that night as well, and two of the bloated corpses on that wagon had been the older boy's kin._

 

_They'd followed it to the shores, where it was loaded onto a boat and sent to Poveglia. Later that night there was a large fire on the island and Cloud watched it with dead eyes and prayed with all his heart._

 

*****

 

A woman came over to Cloud, clearly a servant from her dress, startling him from his remembrance of the past. In her hands was a box made from walnut, it's sides intricately carved with a carnival scene. She bobbed a curtsey and opened the lid.

 

“From the Conte, to help you fit in upon the barge, Signore,” she said. Cloud looked down at the mask and tried to suppress a shiver. The _Medico Della Peste_ stared up at him with dead eyes. The mask didn't have the plain white of a true Plague Doctor's mask, but was instead painted with a burnished gold. In a lighter colour, circular glasses had been painted around the eyes.

 

“Do I have to wear this?” Cloud asked, trying to calm himself. “I do not wish to seem impolite, but this mask makes fun of that which should not be made fun of.”

 

The servant didn't seem to know what to reply to that. “The Conte requested this mask specifically,” she said finally. Cloud sighed and reached out to remove the mask from the box. The papier-mache face stared up at him and he slowly turned it around, raising it to his face and tying it with a ribbon.

 

“It suits you, Signore,” the servant said. Cloud was glad the mask could hide his wince as he stepped around her. He made his way to the barge, ignoring the other revellers. He climbed onto the boat and glanced around.

 

He was startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned with a yell, his heel slipping on the deck and his arms wind milling as he tried to prevent the fall into the water. He was grateful when a strong hand caught him and pulled him back on balance.

 

“My apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

 

Cloud blinked and realised that he recognised the voice. It was the Conte, although he had changed his mask from earlier and no longer wore the decorative wig. In fact, Cloud was tempted to believe that the long silver tresses the Conte now sported was his actual hair colour. He had not realised the Conte was so old.

 

“It's quite alright, Conte,” Cloud said, offering a small bow. The man's eyes glinted through the mask.

 

“Please, I changed into a new mask and outfit so that I might escape people knowing my identity. If you must refer to me at all, Signore, it must be as Sephiroth,” he said smoothly. Cloud had an inkling then what this was about. It seemed that this old man had a penchant for younger ones. He was more than willing to play along however, if it got him below deck to where Cloud _knew_ there were treasures waiting.

 

“Then I must insist you call me Cloud in turn,” he replied, all false charm.

 

The Conte nodded and were it not for the mask, Cloud would have been sure he was smiling. He moved closer, ignoring the usual rules of personal space.

 

“Tell me, Sephiroth, are you a religious man?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. The Conte shook his head.

 

“If I were, I would condemn parties like this,” he said, gesturing to the antics of others on the barge and back on the shore. A woman was vomiting into the canal, her breasts had fallen out of her corset as she heaved. Nearby a man was quite happily pushing up the skirt of a woman that was almost certainly a prostitute.

 

“I suppose so. I come from a religious family, so it's quite the sight for me,” he said, lying through his teeth. Sephiroth's eyes looked fairly interested in that. _Oh yes, Conte, I know your game. The more innocent the better in your eyes..._

 

“I see. I had no idea Florence was so conservative,” Sephiroth said, stepping forward to steer Cloud towards the bow of the barge, away from the majority of the other members of the party.

 

“My parents are very strict Catholics,” Cloud said, pretending innocence as Sephiroth's hand moved from his elbow to the small of his back. “This is the first time I've been allowed to travel alone without a chaperone.”

 

He could almost see the shiver of anticipation in the Conte and fought the urge to smile. He leaned against the railing of the barge. Sephiroth placed a hand on either side of Cloud's body, and when he was this close, Cloud was suddenly struck with how big he truly was.

 

“Conte-” Cloud began, not having to feign being slightly breathless.

 

“Fire! Fire on the ship!” Someone screamed. Cloud blinked and his gaze was torn away from Sephiroth's masked face to see that some of the decorations had caught fire. Sephiroth stepped back immediately.

 

“I believe that will be the end of the party for tonight, but I am holding... a more private affair at my estate in a fortnight. Perhaps you would wish to attend?” he asked, glancing at Cloud and keeping an eye on the fire at the same time.

 

Cloud smirked beneath the mask. “Of course, Conte. It will be an honour to see you again.”

 

“Indeed,” Sephiroth replied and bowed. Cloud did so in return, feeling his mask slip a little. He held onto it.

 

“Good night Conte,” he said, watching as Sephiroth walked away to deal with the fire. He watched the flames for a moment before slipping off the barge and into the backstreets of Venice.

 

Oh, he and Zack would make sure it was a party that Sephiroth would never forget...

 

*****

 

Cloud looked up at the Church of the Sacred Virgin Madonna with the sense of a mischievous child coming home. He had removed the Conte's mask, though it was still in his hand. Any normal Venetian would assume he was a reveller coming home from a party with a particularly sore conscience. He opened the door to the church, shivering as the cool air hit him.

 

“Your sins have been absolved. You can go in Peace my son,” Cloud heard a pompous voice saying from the confessional. He watched as a man stumbled out of the box, a mask still on his face and his red hair spilling down his back from under the hat. He bowed hurriedly to Cloud as he left, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Oh for god's sake, Cloud, it's about time. Quickly bolt it so I don't have to pretend to play priest again,” Zack's head stuck out of the priest's side of the confessional. Cloud grinned and bolted the door behind him, walking towards Zack.

 

“You know, the perfect blackmail material just walks into your hands,” Cloud said, leaning his hip against the wooden pew. Zack laughed.

 

“Yeah, now I just gotta figure out who that was. It was the usual. 'Forgive me, for I have had thoughts of sodomy' confession. Apparently whoever that was has a crush a mile wide on some friend of his,” Zack said, his grin as cheerful as ever. Cloud stepped forward, putting his arms around Zack's neck.

 

“Hm? Sounds familiar,” he said, his eyes slightly mischievous. Zack rolled his eyes.

 

“It's not my fault you were hiding in the confessional that day,” he pointed out. Cloud just leaned forward, kissing Zack on the lips.

 

*

 

_That day had been one of the happiest moments in his life. He'd been hiding from Angeal after having pulled a rather elaborate prank involving making the statue of the Virgin Mary bleed from her eyes. The confessional had seemed the safest place as Tseng was supposed to be in there taking confessions._

 

_Of course, Cloud knew that Tseng had crept out to see the local baker's daughter, driven by hormones like most teenage boys. He'd sat in there, listening to the chaos in the church as Angeal tried to convince the various worshippers that it wasn't an omen._

 

“_Father?”_

 

_Cloud blinked, realising that someone was in the other booth. He vaguely recognised the voice but couldn't quite place it. He leaned back, putting on as adult a voice as he could. His voice was currently breaking, and he couldn't maintain his deeper 'man' voice for long periods of time without embarrassing squeaks, but it was better than talking like normal._

 

“_I am here, my son,” he said, hoping that his voice didn't sound too strained. The person in the other side sighed in relief._

 

“_Bless me, Father, for I have sinned; it has been a month since my last confession,” the stranger said. Cloud waited in silence._

 

“_I have been having thoughts about... about another man... I know that last time you gave me advice to forget him, Father, but I cannot. He fills my thoughts constantly and... I have seen him in this church. Something about his being an acolyte... I'm sorry, Father, you do not need to hear all the disgusting desires...”_

 

_Cloud's curiosity was piqued however. Did this guy have a crush on Tseng? Because if he did he was about to be disappointed. Although if it was Angeal, at least he'd stand a chance..._

 

“_He looks like an angel... I want to protect him... but I guess it's me he needs protecting from. I mean, he's still pretty much a child and I doubt he remembers me anyway. Or even if he does, he probably wouldn't want to become reacquainted...”_

 

_Cloud tried to see through the mesh but it was hard to see in the gloom. He caught a glimpse of tanned skin and tried to think of those in the surrounding area who were tanned that way._

 

“_I... I think I'm in love with Cloud, Father. I'm sorry.”_

 

_Cloud couldn't help it, he let out a small squeak of surprise. The stranger in the other box seemed to realise he'd been tricked and the door banged open. Cloud managed to clamber out of his own side in time to see the retreating back of the tanner's son disappearing through the doors..._

 

*

 

“I'm never going to let you forget that,” Cloud said, chuckling. Zack rolled his eyes.

 

“How was I supposed to know the difference between love and a petty crush? I was what, fourteen?” he pointed out. Cloud kissed him on the cheek.

 

“I'm not complaining. Even if it's immoral, we're happy enough with what we have, aren't we?” he asked, stepping back. Zack nodded, brushing Cloud's hair from his face.

 

“You've really got no shame. In a House of God as well...”

 

Cloud let go of Zack to give Angeal a bright smile. “Forgive me Father, I was just celebrating our latest scheme coming to fruition.”

 

Angeal nodded. Although he looked like an austere Man of God, he was in fact the head of their little band of thieves. His face was appropriately serious, and he had managed to fool the populace so far, but Cloud, Zack, Genesis and Tseng all knew the truth behind this place. It was a thief's hideout, and one that was so secret, that only the best thieves in Venice were taken into it.

 

Angeal had taught them many things. How to act with the gentry, how to speak Latin, how to pick pockets like the best, how to scam. Slowly they'd built up a repertoire of tricks that made them the best conmen in Italy.

 

“You managed to steal it then?” Angeal asked. Cloud shook his head, but maintained his grin.

 

“No, but I've got a date with the Conte in two weeks time,” he replied. Zack ruffled Cloud's hair and pretended to look hurt.

 

“Flirting with other men right in front of your one and only...” he said mournfully. Cloud rolled his eyes and began to unbutton the stuffy velvet jacket he was wearing.

 

“You think he'll have it then?” Angeal asked. Cloud shrugged.

 

“If he's like most men he'll fall asleep after and give me the chance to move around the mansion unheeded,” he pointed out. Of course, Signore Crecenzo De Luca would disappear into the ether after that, having been branded a thief. Cloud guessed he was lucky that the masquerades and the wigs of the gentry meant it was easy to disguise himself and create new persona.

 

“Your infidelity is always so moving,” Angeal dead panned. Cloud paused on the final button and looked at Zack. Their relationship wasn't exactly normal, and Zack had strayed on more than one occasion. They always ended up back together when things didn't work out though, and Cloud sometimes felt like he was the back-up plan. Zack seemed to fall in and out of love easily.

 

“Hey, Spike and I have got our own way of judging things like fidelity,” Zack said with a grin and Cloud returned to the final button, removing his jacket.

 

“Yeah, it doesn't count when it gets in the way of gold,” Angeal replied dryly.

 

*

 

The underneath of the Church was the thieves' den. It was lavishly decorated with velvet wall hangings, tapestries and expensive furniture, all courtesy of the richest of Venetians who had been conned over the years.

 

Cloud lounged on the divan, having filled his face with his midnight snack, he was now ready to sleep until some time in mid morning when Angeal would want someone to take over priestly duties above. He undid a button of his trousers, which were tighter now after the food and closed his eyes.

 

“That looks like an invitation.”

 

Cloud found himself smiling, not bothering to open his eyes. “Zack, you think everything is an invitation.” He felt fingers sliding through his hair, down his nose and to his lips.

 

“Isn't it though? Usually when people find half-undressed blond men lounging on their favourite seat, they think someone's sent them a present,” Zack continued his caress down Cloud's neck. Cloud finally opened his eyes, seeing Zack grinning down at him.

 

“Ah, there are those beautiful eyes,” he said, leaning forward. Cloud raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sweet talk doesn't get you anywhere with me, Zack,” he replied. Zack chuckled, his hand cupping Cloud's cheek as he leaned down.

 

“I know you like a bit of flattery though. Otherwise you feel easy.” His knee slid between Cloud's legs and he lowered himself so that his weight was settled there. Cloud remained still, not moving for fear of Zack slipping and catching something vitally important.

 

“What makes you think I'm even in the mood?” Cloud asked, though his head tilted slightly into Zack's touch and he could feel his body getting hotter from Zack's proximity.

 

“The Conte got you all hot and bothered. I can tell when you come back horny you know,” Zack leaned forward so he was whispering in Cloud's ear. Cloud shivered slightly. “Got a little bit of a crush on older men, Cloud?”

 

“Shut up,” Cloud hissed, his lips attaching themselves to Zack's neck. He heard the other laugh softly and nipped him in retaliation. Zack's laugh turned into a groan and he reached down to grip Cloud's hips, pushing against him.

 

Cloud let out a small needy noise, his legs spreading a little to accommodate Zack's hips. He moaned when his cock brushed up against Zack's, his whole body shivering as his grip on Zack's hair tightened.

 

It didn't matter to him that there was a chance that Angeal, Tseng or Genesis might walk in. He'd been caught in much more embarrassing positions with Zack before. Usually it was because someone had forgotten to knock though, rather than because they walked into the lounge.

 

Zack continued to rub their hips together and Cloud bit his lip to hold back needy groans. The friction of the cloth between them made the skin beneath hot and his cock was starting to leak against the fabric. He began to buck his hips up against Zack's, desperate to find his peak.

 

“God, you're beautiful when you look like that,” Zack said hoarsely. Cloud let out a quiet whimper, his hips bucking up once more before he spilled into his trousers. He lay there bonelessly as Zack fumbled with the fastenings of his own trousers, pulling himself out and stroking himself a few times. Hot cum splattered onto Cloud's shirt and, as he came back to himself, he realised he was going to have to arrange for this costume to be washed.

 

“Couldn't you have caught it?” he grumbled, sitting up to peel off his shirt.

 

“After you came in your pants, I figured there was no point,” Zack said with a grin. Cloud sighed and couldn't help but reluctantly smile.

 

“You're an uncultured lout,” he said, throwing the stained shirt at Zack who caught it with a laugh.

 

“You still sleep with me,” he pointed out, dropping the shirt on the floor.

 

“Yeah, and I wonder at my sanity for doing so,” Cloud quipped back, shucking his trousers and gathering the dirty clothes together in his arms. He would have to take them to be laundered in the morning. That would mean getting up before midday... He looked at the clothes mournfully and wished he'd had the willpower to resist Zack tonight.

 

“Goodnight Zack,” he said softly. Zack just waved and flopped onto the divan.

 

*****

 

Sephiroth opened his eyes the following morning and immediately his eyes fell to the pretty blond beside him. If there was one thing to be said for Conte Sephiroth, it was that he had taste. The boy was the son of a German trader, all beautiful pale skin and blond hair. Sephiroth's hand stroked down the line of the boy's spine, sliding down each ridge of bone under soft skin until he reached the fabric of his sheets.

 

Sleepy green eyes opened and the boy blushed, hiding his face quickly into the pillow. Sephiroth smirked. Oh, that was another thing about taking the innocent, they never failed in giving a pleasing reaction upon waking up in his bed. Sephiroth lightly pushed the covers down the boy's hips.

 

“C-Conte!” the boy protested, turning and trying to stop Sephiroth from pushing the covers lower. As though he had any modesty left.

 

“You were not protesting last night,” Sephiroth reminded him gently. The blond tried to grab the covers but Sephiroth caught his hands and pinned them above his head.

 

“The wine... I had drunk too much of it. I knew not what I was doing!” he protested. Sephiroth just smiled, sharklike as he leaned forward.

 

The only thing more fun than the innocent was the terrified...

 

*

 

Cloud woke and dressed for his persona. Signore Crescenzo De Luca needed to be seen out and about in Venice, he also needed to make more connections. It would be much easier to swindle Sephiroth's peers at the same time than to create a new persona later. Lockhart was Cloud's main target, and he knew that the _Sindaco _would be far more gullible than the others. In fact, he was pretty certain he could get the man to put himself in the frame for the thefts that Cloud would make once his position with the Conte was secured.

 

He pulled on the suit and was putting the finishing touches to his ensemble with a few trinkets of jewellery when he felt arms slide around his waist. He turned around to see Zack stood behind him and he smiled.

 

“Angeal says don't even think of sneaking out to start thieving, you have priestly duties in the church,” Zack said. Cloud pouted.

 

“Can't you just pretend you didn't see me?” he asked. Zack pretended to think about it, then kissed his cheek.

 

“Not a chance, because then _I'd _have to do it,” he pointed out. Cloud felt the ridiculous urge to poke him in the eye, but instead he grabbed a black priest's smock from his wardrobe and put it on over the top of his gentleman's ensemble.

 

“Some lace is still showing,” Zack offered. Cloud made a rude gesture and stomped into the church.

 

*

 

The screams from the Conte's bedroom were ignored by the guards outside. They were used to strange things happening within the bed chambers. Sephiroth was not known to be a gentle lover, for all his charm outside the bedroom, and he had also been known to bring lovers who hadn't exactly _consented_ to the pairing to his bed.

 

There was a climax to the screams and then the door was thrown open. A wild-eyed boy shot through the door, his ass bright red and his clothes bundled in his arms. The guards pretended not to see anything.

 

An hour later a bathed, dressed, respectable Conte stepped out of the room and the guards both bowed. Sephiroth smirked and went about his business.

 

*

 

_Cloud had never been adopted. The Doctor had quickly realised that he didn't have the skills to allow him to be apprenticed and that his only skills were that he could speak small amounts of Spanish and Arabic. Left with no options to train him and the possibility of having to raise the boy himself, the Doctor had quickly sold him off to two men of a questionable professions._

 

_Cloud had learned quickly under them though. Nero and his brother Weiss ran a pickpocketing ring whose reach ran throughout the city. They used young children as false beggars and allowed the Orphans they'd collected to form teams that competed with each other to steal the most. Cloud had been the only one to work alone, his quickness of hand being the only things that prevented him from being cast from the group for lack of profits._

 

_For Cloud was a little smarter than the rest. The rest would clamour about, picking pockets and making a general uproar. During Cloud's first year with Nero and Weiss, over a dozen of his peers were caught by the Guard and their thieving days cut short by a swift hanging. Cloud was intelligent enough to rob people without them knowing they had been robbed until hours later, by which time he was long gone, their purse quite happily tucked inside his dirty tunic._

 

_For three years Cloud continued thieving under Nero and Weiss, until in his tenth year he picked the wrong pocket. It had been a tough week, and Cloud had been threatened with a beating by Nero if he didn't get more gold than he'd been handing in previously. Even so, it hadn't been Cloud's fault that there was someone important in the city and that the guards had been more attentive than usual._

 

_In desperation he'd picked the pocket of a priest, dressed entirely in black velvet with a silver cross embroidered on his breast. No sooner had Cloud's fingers closed around the purse did he find a dagger point aimed at his throat. He stared at it with frightened blue eyes and looked up at the priest. The man's cold blue eyes stared back at him without sympathy._

 

“_Your grace!” An oriental boy was at the priest's side in a moment, his own acolyte robe looking too big on his frame. Cloud backed up until his back was pressed against the wall, his bony frame pushing into the stonework hard enough to leave bruises._

 

“_Just a pickpocket, Tseng. A pretty good one. I barely knew he'd tried,” the priest said, using the dagger to lift Cloud's chin. He swallowed, his heart pumping frantically in his ears._

 

“_We really must get back to the church though, your grace,” the oriental, Tseng, said. Cloud tried not to imagine what the priest would do to him._

 

“_Yes, yes, but first I want to know about our little pocket-thief here. How old are you boy?” he asked. Cloud tried to find his voice past the dryness in his throat._

 

“_I'm in my ninth year sir,” he managed to say, then quickly amended himself. “I mean your grace.”_

 

“_One of Nero and Weiss' lads by the look of it,” the priest said, turning to Tseng. Cloud froze in confusion, not sure why a priest would know of Nero and Weiss at all. Their little gang had escaped the notice of the Guard for so long..._

 

“_Half starved as well from the look of him. Must not be very good,” Tseng commented, standing so that the scene was blocked from the majority of the people in the street. No one was really paying attention anyway. Who cared about one dead street thief at the end of the day?_

 

“_No, he's good,” the priest said softly. “There must be some other reason.”_

 

“_I thieve alone, your grace. I get less gold that way, but I don't get caught like the others,” Cloud explained himself, slightly proud of his brains. The priest's eyes grew a little warm._

 

“_Tseng, after we get back to the Church I want you to go and visit Signore Nero. He'll be easiest to barter with. Tell him I'll offer three gold pieces for the boy, and he's lucky to get that much for such a half-starved creature,” the priest said. Cloud's stomach went cold. He had heard tales of what priests did to little boys and he had considered himself lucky to avoid that fate so far._

 

“_If you say so, your grace. If he demands more?” Tseng asked, looking disinterested. The priest just smiled._

 

“_Then the guard may get a little tip off to the whereabouts of almost half the city's pickpockets,” he said. Cloud watched as the dagger was removed from near his throat and sheathed and then tried to make a break for it, pushing the priest away as he dashed towards the busiest part of the street._

 

_A arm snagged around his throat from behind and he struggled for a while before his head was knocked into the wall and he passed out._

 

*****

 

_Cloud had awoken and had immediately wondered where he was. It was a very rich place, with tapestries hanging on the walls and lavish furniture strewn throughout the rooms. He stared at his surroundings, wondering how he'd managed to get here. It didn't look like a cell, but then, he'd never been in one, so he wouldn't know..._

 

“_Ah, you're awake.”_

 

_Cloud looked up to see the priest from before, his stern features set into a more personable smile now. He was no longer wearing the priest's clothes, but instead a simple tunic and hose. His black hair hung in curtains down by his face._

 

“_Don't look so afraid. I don't know what you've heard about the Church, but I'm pretty sure it's wrong,” he said. Cloud folded his hands in his lap and moved back in his seat a little. “I'm Angeal. I'm the head priest of this church, the Church of the Sacred Virgin Madonna.”_

 

_Cloud nodded, not sure what this man was trying to say. He knew that there were some priests who liked young boys, but this man seemed so different from the other priests that Cloud had met that he couldn't add up the image of a molester with him._

 

“_And your name?” Angeal prompted. Cloud's tongue felt too big for his mouth as he scrambled to make a reply. Angeal laughed._

 

“_Cloud was that?” he asked. Cloud nodded dumbly. Angeal leaned forward and ruffled his hair._

 

“_Are you hungry, Cloud?” he asked. The boy nodded and watched as the priest walked across the room and filled up a bowl with mutton stew and acorn bread and came back. Cloud began to shovel the food into his mouth with his fingers, ignoring the burning of the juices on his fingertips. He ate until it was all gone and only then noticed the nauseous, burning feeling in his stomach._

 

“_Here,” Angeal passed him a mug. Cloud took it and quickly drank from it. The watered down wine was sour, but Cloud couldn't stop drinking it until it was gone and his stomach was somewhat more settled._

 

“_We need to bath you,” Angeal said, looking at Cloud's sticky hands and face. Cloud shook his head. He wasn't taking his clothes off for this man to gawp at him. Angeal seemed to know what he was thinking because he smiled._

 

“_I will fill a tub with water and then erect a screen for you to bathe privately. If you are to be staying here, you will get used to being clean,” Angeal said. Cloud's stomach flipped._

 

“_St-stay here?!” he repeated. Angeal raised an eyebrow._

 

“_Indeed. I'm taking you on as an apprentice,” he said. Cloud frowned. He didn't think he'd make a very good priest's apprentice. He could read a little Latin, but most of it was now forgotten._

 

“_Do you understand what this Church is?” Angeal asked. Cloud wasn't sure how to answer the question so he just looked up at Angeal with innocent blue eyes._

 

“_We are an organisation that serves God by... redistributing his wealth across the city,” Angeal replied, a slight smirk on his face. Cloud blinked. Thieves of God?_

 

“_We take from the richest people in the city and then we claim it for the poor people. Ourselves, mostly,” Angeal said, gesturing around his room. Cloud squirmed in his seat. All this was stolen from rich people?_

 

“_You're a thief, your grace?” he asked. Angeal began to laugh._

 

“_I'm not a real priest, Cloud. This church is a cover. For a start once someone claims sanctuary within the walls he cannot be arrested or murdered. Also, who suspects the priesthood of robbing people? Well, apart from through the usual legitimate means,” Angeal's eyes were bright and Cloud began to realise just what kind of a place he was in. This was a thief's haven._

 

“_How do you steal so much stuff without being caught?” he found himself asking. Angeal winked at him._

 

“_We let them give it us, of course,” he said. Cloud frowned, confused._

 

“_We use our brains instead of our quickness. We pretend to be rich, like those people in the posh houses. We then lie to them, big, elaborate lies, until they trust us. We then invent something: an investment opportunity or a family crisis. They give us money or heirlooms, whatever they have that's valuable, and then we disappear. Most are so ashamed to be caught out that they don't tell anyone they have been robbed,” Angeal explained. Cloud found himself grinning at the end. He liked that kind of thieving. It wouldn't matter that he wasn't as big as the other boys. He just had to be smart enough._

 

“_So we trick them into giving us all their stuff and then run away with it and use it for ourselves? That's pretty awesome, Signore!” he said. Angeal nodded._

 

“_Thank you Cloud. Now if you will get a bath and change your clothes, we can discuss this a little more,” he said. Cloud got to his feet and followed Angeal to the hammered out tin tub that was the bath. The other began to draw water through a pump and, though it was cold, Cloud got into it without any further complaints._

 

_*_

 

_Cloud hadn't thought that training to be a con man would have been so hard. Angeal put him to work immediately after he'd bathed, trying to gauge if Cloud could read or write. His knowledge of languages had been almost lost to him, but with Angeal's careful guidance he began to relearn and remember a lot of what he knew._

 

_By the time he went to sleep that night, in a clean nightgown, his head was buzzing with words in Arabic, letters of the alphabet and Latin grammar. The next day was even worse. Angeal himself oversaw his instruction in languages, reading and writing, but his apprentice, Tseng, oversaw other aspects. Cloud was retaught table manners, how to cook simple meals, how to do priestly acolyte duties and how to wash his own clothes. Tseng was patient, but distant, and Cloud much preferred to spend his time in the company of Angeal._

 

_Three weeks after he originally came to the church, Cloud was sent across the road to the tanner's shop to get some leather shoes for Tseng. He clutched the money tightly in his fist as he cross the road to the shop opposite and pushed the door open._

 

_The tanner was a large man with a thick beard and a loud, booming voice. Cloud had stuttered his request to the man. He'd frowned and hollered for his apprentice. Cloud waited patiently for the boy to arrive, not sure what was wrong. A moment later a boy in an apron walked into the room, his dark hair tied up out of his face to reveal his sharp features. Cloud blinked. It was the boy from the Plague Doctor's cart!_

 

“_You're Zack!” he said brightly. The tanner cuffed Zack around the back of the head._

 

“_Have you finished the priest's shoes, boy?” he demanded. Cloud winced as Zack took another blow to the back of the head. Even so, the dark haired boy just grinned up at the tanner._

 

“_Of course I did. It's in the back,” he said petulantly. Cloud saw the tanner's mouth twitch into a smile. He guessed it was that weird kind of relationship that some men had. Cloud had never really understood why men punched each other so much to say hello and things, but looking at the closeness Zack had with his master, Cloud couldn't help but feel a little longing for it himself._

 

“_So, you got apprenticed to the priesthood then?” Zack asked, watching his father disappear out back. “We were worried when you got sold to those guys. They didn't seem very nice.”_

 

_Cloud nearly told Zack who they were, but caught himself just in time. Instead he just smiled at the other and shrugged. “Angeal is a good man. I'm very lucky he took me in,” he said instead. Zack nodded and at that moment the tanner returned with the shoes._

 

“_Here you go, lad,” he said, handing them over. Cloud took them and handed over the money. The tanner made it disappear into his pocket almost faster than Cloud could see. He smiled at the man and turned to go._

 

“_Um... Cloud? Later, when I'm finished working... Can I come call for you?” Zack asked. Cloud froze, not sure what to say. He looked up at the tanner but the man's eyes were kind._

 

“_I don't know. I don't know if Angeal will allow it,” he said carefully. He'd be in the crypt doing his lessons after all. Zack's face fell and Cloud felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach._

 

“_I'll come and call on you if I'm allowed,” Cloud consoled. Zack's face brightened and the tanner chuckled, ruffling Zack's hair._

 

“_We'll feed you too lad, if you want. I'm sure Angeal will have no problem with it so long as you get home before curfew,” he said. Cloud nodded and dashed out of the door, his cheeks bright pink._

 

_He didn't mention it to Angeal and didn't call for Zack. Although he desperately wanted a friend, he didn't want to upset Angeal by asking for too much from him. He would concentrate on becoming an awesome thief and that would be good enough._

 

_*_

 

_Cloud became fluent in Arabic and Latin over the next few months. Angeal was so impressed by his progress that he rewarded Cloud by telling him that he was going to send him for lessons in weaponry starting from his eleventh birthday. Cloud had been considerably cheered, although he wasn't looking forward to the summer months coming and the Plague they would undoubtedly bring._

 

_It was on a night when he was conversing with Tseng purely in Latin, attempting to trip the other up and make him make a mistake, that Angeal came in looking furious. Cloud immediately sensed the anger and made himself small, curling his knees up towards his chest and starting to shake. When adults got angry, usually children got hurt._

 

“_Cloud. A word with you,” Angeal said. Cloud miserably curled into a tighter ball. Tseng gracefully left, his dark oriental eyes narrowed critically at Cloud._

 

“_I didn't do nothing!” Cloud said as soon as Tseng left. Angeal's mouth was in a thin line._

 

“_The tanner's lad, Zack. Did you tell him you weren't allowed to leave here?” Angeal asked. Cloud shook his head, his stomach flipping. He hadn't spoken to Zack since he'd been there a few months ago. Whenever he saw the other boy he'd run away from him._

 

“_A verbal answer will be sufficient,” Angeal snapped._

 

“_No sir,” Cloud said. Angeal folded his arms._

 

“_Then why did the tanner come over to me and ask me to let you go over? Apparently the offer has been made repeatedly, and yet you have yet to accept their hospitality,” he said. Cloud stared at Angeal's feet._

 

“_I didn't want to ask for nothing. It's not right. I've got to work hard on my languages and my cooking and chores. I don't have time to play with Zack,” he said stubbornly. “I didn't want to bother you with it.”_

 

_Angeal's face softened. “You're a child, Cloud. You're allowed to go and play with Zack if you want to...”_

 

_Cloud raised his face, looking a little hopeful. “But my duties...” he said. Angeal shook his head._

 

“_You've done more than well enough in those. Besides, I don't want the neighbourhood thinking I'm abusing you down here. The tanner all but accused me of running a boy-whore house down here. Now go wash the ink stains off your hands and visit the tanner and apologise for this misunderstanding,” Angeal ordered. Cloud got to his feet and looked down at his hands that had black blotches all over them. He then looked up at Angeal again._

 

“_I promise not to get my clothes dirty,” he said. A fond smile came to Angeal's face._

 

“_Run along,” he said. Run along Cloud did._

 

*

 

Cissnei was in the church, dressed in her finest. Cloud did his best not to meet her eyes, but she made a beeline for him. She curtseyed to him, he bowed and blessed her, and then she began.

 

“I don't know where you've squirrelled away my fiancé,” she said, tapping her fan against her palm menacingly. “I want him back. It's not right for him to be here. And I _know_ what this place is. You never fooled _me_ Cloud Strife.”

 

Cloud felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. Cissnei was one of his greatest fears. She was fiercely intelligent and she was tied to Zack more strongly than he ever could be. She was going to be his _wife_. No matter how they played around now, no matter what Zack said to him about his feelings, it didn't matter because one day Cissnei would stand at the altar in this church and get _married_.

 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Cloud said. She bared her teeth in a sweet smile that set Cloud's skin prickling.

 

“Oh? Angeal _isn't_ an expert con man then? He's just a priest?” she asked. Cloud was glad the rest of the church was empty. He grabbed her arm and dragged her behind the confessional.

 

“Listen to me, Cissnei. Zack is currently helping us with one job. If we get caught, _he_ goes to the gallows too,” Cloud let go of her arm. She was watching him with narrowed eyes.

 

“You're in love with him,” she said. Cloud looked away, folding his arms.

 

“I'm learning not to be... but it takes time. I was with him before you were on the scene... I never thought I'd have to give him up,” he said. Cissnei grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at her.

 

“Move on, Cloud. Zack is... He means well, but he can't say goodbye. You need to do it for him. Otherwise you're condemning both of us to a loveless marriage that will only end in heartbreak,” she said. Cloud nodded. He knew that Zack was attracted to Cissnei. He'd seen the man flirting with her, then guiltily moving away when Cloud walked into the room. He'd seen that Zack often thought with what was in his pants and not with his head.

 

This marriage was going to happen and Cloud didn't want to play at being Zack's mistress.

 

“I'll... I'll make it clear to him,” Cloud said, feeling the weight of finality in his gut. Cissnei nodded.

 

“I'm sorry, Cloud. I just... I bought my wedding clothes yesterday. I have all the clothes of a married woman but my groom still hasn't come around to the idea that it's going to happen. You're the only one I know who can make him see sense,” her fingers tightened on the fan in her grasp.

 

Cloud nodded and watched her walk away, long red hair tumbling down her back.

 

_It's time to fall in love with someone else, isn't it?_

 

*

 

_Cloud's weapons training wasn't alone. He was thrilled to find out that Zack had been sent along too. The older boy wasn't going to be in Cloud's lessons though, instead he'd been sent to a different teacher. Even so, it meant they could walk to and from their lessons together, talking animatedly about whatever it was they had done that day._

 

_Cloud had to be slightly more secretive than Zack about what he was doing, but it never seemed to bother the other. He found Cloud's talk about reading and Latin and priest duties just as enthralling as Cloud found the gossip from the tanner's shop and the stupid things that Zack's master had done that morning._

 

_Once they were at training, however, everything was different. Zack went to a group class and Cloud was sent for one-on-one training with the master of the school. His training was in the central courtyard that only had one entrance and exit. The courtyard had a series of criss-crossing paths across it, in between them were densely planted roses. It had been designed to promote the use of footwork in fencing, and Cloud had already been tripped up more than once and sent tumbling into the flowerbeds to have his knees and back shredded by the thorns._

 

_Ezio, his teacher, was a tall gentlemen with a lithe build and grace that seemed to be built into his every movement. He was also Cloud's most hated adversary. The man seemed to like nothing more than to send him hurtling through the air into the rose beds._

 

“_Straighten your posture,” Ezio said, sounding bored. Cloud hissed as the man whacked him across the back with the flat of his blade._

 

“_I'm tired. I want to stop,” Cloud whined petulantly. Ezio whacked him with the sword again._

 

“_Straighten,” he repeated. Cloud tiredly straightened his back._

 

“_Yes, Signore Auditore,” he replied. He saw the man's eyes light up with slight approval and tried to ignore the rush of pleasure that caused. I hate this man, he reminded himself._

 

“_Let me see if you've practised your footwork. I don't expect sloppiness just because you are tired,” he said. Cloud raised his sword and attempted to attack Ezio, keeping his footwork as careful as he could. As usual, he didn't land a blow and the man tripped him up within seconds, sending him sprawling into a thorny bed of roses._

 

_Ten years later and Cloud straightened his posture, letting out a flurry of strikes that forced Ezio back against the wall. The man didn't allow a single blow to land, but Cloud could see sweat forming on his brow as he attempted to defend all of Cloud's attacks as well as land ones of his own._

 

_Finally Ezio's back hit the wall and the man dropped his sword in surrender._

 

“_Well done, Cloud,” he said, having the nerve to not sound breathless. Cloud was panting and wiping his sweaty brow on the back of his sleeve. His muscles cramped a little and he leant down to massage them a little, hissing through his teeth. _

 

“_I can't teach you much more. A lot of my other techniques are secret and beyond what Angeal would be prepared for you to learn,” Ezio said. Cloud nodded, still desperately trying to get his breath back._

 

“_Tell him not to send you along any more. I'm done with you,” Ezio said with a shrug. He then turned on his heel. Cloud straightened his back._

 

“_Have fun with Signore Leonardo,” he said with a small smirk on his face. Ezio glanced back over his shoulder._

 

“_And you have fun with Signore Fair,” he replied. Cloud's smirk fell and he fumbled to find words in response. Ezio had already left and Cloud winced, pulling a rose petal out of his hair._

 

*

 

Cloud didn't have time to talk to Zack before Angeal was bundling him up in expensive clothes and pushing him out of the door. Apparently the Conte had arranged another party and had sent an invitation to Cloud's fake address in the city. Cloud felt jittery. He'd had no time to prepare for this.

 

“Be aware Cloud,” Angeal said to him before letting him go. It was the first time that Cloud had done anything without back-up and he was more than terrified. He was even more terrified by the Conte's way of wrapping him around his finger. Zack had been right before. Cloud _did_ feel a strange attraction to the man.

 

He decided to forego a carriage and instead got a tacked up horse. It was a fine beast and Cloud ran it through the streets at a pace fast enough to bring a sweat on it's skin. He knew that the Conte had been attracted to the idea of him being a country boy, from outside Florence, who didn't know the ways of the city. He figured this trick with the horse would only make the Conte even more enamoured with his persona. A carriage would have been a city person's decision.

 

He saw the paupers swarming where the party was, the cheap prostitutes and the beggars hoping to pick up whatever was dropped for them. He pushed the horse through them all and dismounted only when he knew he could move no further into the party without crushing someone.

 

He let a servant take the horse and straightened his clothes. He then scanned the crowd, looking for the Conte. The man was stood before the canal and Cloud was surprised to see that, without the mask, the man had a young face. He could only be in his early thirties! His grey hair was obviously just an unnaturally premature ageing.

 

Something stirred in Cloud's gut when green eyes that almost glowed ran over the crowd to land on him. A smirk that Cloud remembered from the night before ran over the Conte's face and he raised his glass in salute. Cloud nodded and made his way towards the man, butterflies in his stomach.

 

He just had to charm him. He didn't need to conduct the robbery tonight. That was his job. He could do this... He just had to get a grip on his nerves.

 

“Greetings, Signore Luca,” the Conte greeted. Cloud felt his cheeks warm under the weight of the stare. Unlike the night before, Sephiroth appeared to be openly admiring him. Cloud felt the need to squirm. It was strange. Zack had looked at him with desire on many occasions, but it had never felt like this. Cloud had never felt all at once too hot and yet completely laid bare.

 

“G-Greetings, Conte,” he replied, bowing. The Conte bowed his head also, sipping from his wine goblet after. Cloud never felt so aware that he was tricking someone before.

 

“Do you like the party I have thrown for you?” the Conte asked. Cloud looked around, wide-eyed. All the opulence of Venice was displayed before him, dancing girls, banqueting tables, fountains of wine, and it was all _his? _He turned his gaze back to the Conte to find the man was regarding him with amusement.

 

“Is that a yes?” he asked. Cloud felt all the colour rush to his face.

 

“Yes, Conte. It's wonderful,” he replied. The Conte nodded and gestured for a servant to come over. Cloud found a wine goblet forced into his hand.

 

“I don't understand what I have done to deserve such a party though,” Cloud said, sipping from the wine glass. It was rich and fruity, with just the right amount of body to still be acceptable to his pallet. It was _good_ wine. Cloud resisted the urge to guzzle the whole glass.

 

“For Venice, it is normal for a party to be thrown at the drop of a hat,” the Conte replied and Cloud took another enthusiastic sip of the wine. He tried his best not to meet the Conte's eyes.

 

“Then perhaps I should not be so flattered that you threw one for me then?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Sephiroth and then away again. The Conte was smirking still.

 

“If you enjoy yourself, I think it matters not for what purpose the party was thrown,” he replied. Cloud swallowed more of the wine.

 

“I wish to dance. Can you suggest a partner?” Cloud asked. The Conte's eyebrows raised and he gestured to a short blond woman.

 

“Her name is Elena. She is particularly quick footed,” the Conte said. Cloud smiled and finished off his wine. He took the Conte's hand, putting the goblet in it. His skin felt warm where it brushed against the man's and he forced himself to make the contact linger despite his embarrassment. He then walked towards the girl, Elena.

 

She turned out to be as quick-footed as Sephiroth had claimed. After a brief introduction arranged through a network of acquaintances, Cloud managed to get her to dance with him. He was particularly proud of his own dancing abilities, and Elena proved to be a partner worthy of him. She had no problem with even some of the more improper dances and Cloud found himself laughing as a lively Volta began to play.

 

“I am afraid I cannot dance another step,” Elena said, her cheeks warm. “But it was a pleasure to share so many dances with you Signore.” With that she was swept away by a man with vivid red hair and strange markings on his face. Cloud watched as they left and then began to meander through the crowd.

 

Wine seemed to be forced on him at every occasion and he found himself becoming lost in a blur of colour and entertainment. He stumbled a little and felt a steadying arm around his waist. He saw a few strands of silver drift before his eyes before he was righted.

 

“Please be careful Signore De Luca,” the Conte said. Cloud felt the arms around him withdraw and he turned to see the Conte. “Did you have fun dancing?”

 

“You were right about Elena. She really is an exquisite dancer,” Cloud said, smiling. Sephiroth nodded.

 

“Elena and her brethren are all very well trained in everything that is important to me,” he said. Cloud frowned.

 

“Brethren?” he asked. Sephiroth gestured for Cloud to walk with him and Cloud did so, taking Sephiroth's arm for support as he did.

 

“A group of devoted bodyguards of mine called the Turks,” the Conte replied. Cloud's mouth felt weirdly dry. The Turks were famous throughout Venice as a lowly group of thugs who would do just about _anything_ to get a job done.

 

“A-ah,” Cloud replied. “I see she's deadly as well as a good dancer then,” he replied. Sephiroth smirked and began to lead Cloud away from the crowds and towards a barge on the canal. Cloud allowed himself to be led, caught up too much in the Conte's illusionary world that he could find no protest convincing enough to stay in the crowd.

 

“Indeed. Perhaps we should go downstairs onto my barge. I believe you had a business deal to discuss with me,” Sephiroth said smoothly. Cloud found himself nodding. He didn't notice the way that the Turks all simultaneously began to move through the crowd towards the barge, effectively blocking off all attempts to escape anyway.

 

He stumbled onto the boat and nearly broke his neck getting down the stairs into Sephiroth's lodgings. He began to laugh as he caught himself nimbly at the bottom and leaned back against the wooden wall. Sephiroth smiled.

 

“You truly are a jewel,” he said, leaning forward. Cloud pressed himself back against the wood and turned his face away. He had always known that it would be up to him to seduce the Conte, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. He felt a warm hand against his cheek and it was turned towards the Conte.

 

“You turn away from me in shame because I find you beautiful? I find that hard to believe,” Sephiroth said. Cloud felt his tongue was tied in knots. Sephiroth moved back and then opened the door to his quarters, allowing Cloud inside.

 

The room beyond was small but furnished with beautiful furniture. Cloud stared at the sheer amount of Chinese silks, Burmese teak wood and exotic trinkets scattered throughout. He walked forward, his mind already itemising what he wished to take with him when they moved in on the Conte. He heard the door click shut and turned.

 

He was surprised to find the Conte so close behind him. The man caught his wrists in a tight grip and held them as he leaned in. Cloud couldn't breathe, never mind move. The man himself was as exotic and intoxicating as his wine and trinkets and Cloud had never been so happy to sleep with someone for a job before.

 

His eyes closed as Sephiroth's lips brushed against his own. Gentle at first, but then more and more devouring. Cloud arched up against the man, trying to free his wrists. Sephiroth didn't let go though, his hands tightening instead.

 

“Ah...” Cloud let out a quiet noise of pain. Sephiroth drew back, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure.

 

“No 'Hail Mary's, Cloud?” he asked. Cloud shook his head, leaning in for another kiss before he realised what the other had said. He then felt a thrill of panic go through him and he began to struggle, to pull away.

 

Sephiroth's strength was superior though and Cloud found himself hurled backwards onto the bed and then pinned by the man's bodyweight. Cloud felt his heart pounding hard against his chest as he writhed and hissed and tried to break free using every trick that Ezio had ever taught him.

 

“You know, I wondered who it could be, ripping off my citizens so well. It took me years to get hold of you. Years of sending my Turks on missions to chase a group of con men all over Venice,” Sephiroth said, his thigh settling between Cloud's own and forcing him to be still if he didn't want to accidentally end up a soprano.

 

“I didn't expect you to be so exquisite looking,” Sephiroth's lips trailed over Cloud's neck and he couldn't hold back the shiver it elicited in him. Cloud tried to hide his reaction but he knew he hadn't managed it when Sephiroth smirked.

 

“I've never had a thief in my bed. I wonder if you know more tricks than the country boys I usually pick up,” he said. Cloud felt his cock twitch at the purr in Sephiroth's voice.

 

“I'll show you every trick I've got so long as I avoid the gallows,” he tried to reason. Sephiroth began to laugh at that.

 

“It is up to you to avoid your date with the executioner,” he replied and Cloud felt his lust dampened by the thought of an imminent hanging. Sephiroth leaned over them, studying his face.

 

“Prove yourself worthy of life and I'll let you go. One night and I will forget everything about your little group of renegades beneath the Church of Our Virgin Madonna,” he promised, leaning in so that his lips brushed against Cloud's ear. “One night of doing whatever I wish to you and you will be free. Otherwise my Turks will be there in minutes and your friends will face the hangman's noose with you.”

 

Cloud felt his throat close. Zack, Tseng, Angeal... No, they couldn't face that just for Cloud. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the Conte, his cheek brushing against the other's as he pressed his lips to the man's cheek.

 

“I hope you rot in hell,” he hissed. It turned into a moan though as Sephiroth's thigh began to rub against his groin. He couldn't deny the man seemed to know exactly what to do to turn him on, even with all this talk of death lingering in the air. “I'll do what you ask. One night in return for your silence.”

 

Sephiroth didn't release Cloud's arms. He instead pinned them above his head with one hand and used the other to slip some shackles from under a pillow. They were secured around Cloud's wrists and Cloud tried not to imagine how long the Conte had known about who he really was, how long he'd planned this night.

 

Sephiroth's weight on him lessened and Cloud opened his eyes. Sephiroth was walking around the room, his eyes watching Cloud. He soon returned with a jar of oil and a knife. Cloud immediately began to scoot back but Sephiroth's hand on his ankle prevented an escape.

 

“It is not for use on you. I wish to remove your clothes. Due to your being tied up, this will remove them much more adequately than tearing,” Sephiroth said, demonstrating by cutting the buttons off Cloud's jacket and then starting to shred the fabric carefully from his body.

 

Cloud became hyper-aware every time Sephiroth's skin brushed against his own. He felt his nipples hardening and wondered when he'd become this easy to please. Sephiroth seemed pleased though and, once Cloud's torso was completely bared, he leaned forward, taking one hardened nub into his mouth and biting down on it.

 

It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it was hard enough to hurt. Cloud's body shuddered and he tried to move away. His cock was swelling in his pants and he didn't know _why_. He'd never even considered this kind of sex before, but somehow, with this man, it seemed that his body wanted it.

 

Sephiroth pulled back to admire Cloud's body and began to shred the clothes on his lower half. Cloud felt his face heat when Sephiroth's gaze fell onto his hard cock. The man didn't mock however, but instead ran the cold flat of the knife along it. Cloud's heart was in his mouth as he stayed very, very still.

 

The man discarded the knife then and leaned forward, kissing the tip of Cloud's cock. Cloud let out a quiet moan. Sephiroth nuzzled his cock for a moment, seeming lost in the sensation of it against his lips before he took it into his mouth. Cloud cried out, his hands gripping the silk above his head hard.

 

Sephiroth sucked on his cock with the pure intent of getting him off. Every swirl of the man's tongue, every movement of his hand in juxtaposition to his mouth, drew Cloud more and more into the man's thrall. He began to buck up against the man's mouth and Sephiroth hummed in pleasure at his lack of control. He eventually pulled away.

 

“You will not cum until I deem it acceptable. Hold yourself back,” he ordered. Cloud whimpered and buried his face into the silk pillows. He heard slick sounds of Sephiroth oiling his fingers and tried his best not to watch. He obediently spread his legs and felt a finger probe his entrance.

 

“Hmph. You're far from virginal,” Sephiroth commented and Cloud's eyes widened as two fingers were roughly shoved inside. He cried out, his back arching as he tried to wriggle off those two fingers. Sephiroth put a hand on his neck though, holding him down and starting to pump the fingers in and out.

 

Cloud swore and cursed at him, refusing to acknowledge that his cock was leaking or that Sephiroth was steadily sliding against that place inside him that made him see stars over and over. He growled and tried to bite the man when he leaned forward to kiss him. Sephiroth withdrew his fingers when he did that though, and only reinserted them again once Cloud let him kiss him.

 

He began to feel like a puppet. The Conte knew every button to press and what reaction would be received. When he drew Cloud up, so he was sitting straddling the other's lap, he seemed to know that Cloud would try to club him across the head with the shackles and instead of acknowledging it, he turned Cloud's movement against him, hooking the chain between the two cuffs to a hook on the wall that left Cloud stretched almost painfully, his entrance suspended just above a considerable bulge in the Conte's trousers.

 

“This hurts,” Cloud snapped, trying to unhook himself. Sephiroth pulled down on his hips though preventing him from unhooking himself. The Conte then began to run hands over Cloud's body, his large hands sliding over Cloud's ticklish sides and making him squirm.

 

“Are you going to be a good boy and ride me, little thief?” Sephiroth asked. Cloud snarled at him but couldn't resist rubbing his cock against the other when his backside was spanked. His eyes were wide as he felt the skin warm. Sephiroth did it again and Cloud's breath caught.

 

“Oh, you're just too perfect,” he said, undoing his trousers and pulling out his cock. He slicked it up with oil as Cloud watched. If Sephiroth had been his lover in other circumstances, he'd have wanted to taste the man then. His cock was swollen and thick, with an enticing bead of precum dribbling down the end. Cloud didn't even notice he was licking his lips until Sephiroth's thumb brushed against them.

 

He met the man's eyes and his breath caught. The Conte was looking at him like he was something to be owned, some valuable that should be kept locked away and secret. Cloud felt something in him submitting to that desire. Wouldn't it be nice... just for a little while... to be taken care of?

 

To have the weight of being a thief taken away from him? To no longer be the person who's lover was going away to get married? To no longer be the one who's parents died of the Plague? To no longer be the little boy who got beaten for merely existing?

 

“Yes,” Cloud whispered, his voice husky. Sephiroth didn't know what he was saying yes to, but he heard the broken emotion in the word. Seconds later he plunged into Cloud's body, his hips jerking upwards in a claiming movement that left Cloud struggling for breath.

 

He rode the Conte with all the enthusiasm he could muster, groans and pleas and sighs escaping from his lips as he desperately bounced up and down on the man's cock. His shoulders ached, his thighs were sore, his own cock was woefully neglected, and yet Cloud could feel nothing but pleasure as he drove the man's cock into him again and again.

 

Sephiroth came with a quiet groan that seemed to slip out by accident and Cloud felt his body flooded with the man's seed. He gently lifted himself off the man's cock when he felt he'd softened, semen dripping out of his stretched hole as he was held suspended over the Conte's hips.

 

He almost cried when he felt the Conte's hand on his cock, jerking him off roughly until he came so hard that he blacked out. He came to when the Conte was removing his shackles. He was still straddling the man, although he'd since sat up.

 

Once his hands were free Cloud immediately began to beat at the man's chest, tears coming to his eyes. The Conte let him for a few moments before he caught his wrists and held them to one side, kissing him instead. Cloud sobbed against the man's mouth.

 

“You're free to go,” Sephiroth said against his lips. “But remember what you have waiting for you here. Remember this opulence, remember how you gave yourself to me, remember forgetting for even a short while what you _are_. And remember never to cross me again.”

 

*

 

_Cloud smiled at Zack. “You're late,” he said. He'd been waiting for almost an hour after his lesson with Ezio had ended. Zack was sweating and his shirt was clinging to him in places that made Cloud's mouth water. He licked his lips surreptitiously and blushed when he realised Zack was watching._

 

“_Cloud?” Zack said. Cloud turned away. Even though he knew Zack liked him, he was still worried about confessing his own feelings. It was difficult, particularly as he knew that Zack had to maintain the façade of respectability._

 

“_Zack... You know I... I like you, don't you?” he asked, turning his blue eyes to the other. Zack smiled brightly._

 

“_Of course I do!” he said, getting the wrong idea immediately. “We're friends right?”_

 

_Cloud couldn't help but be amused. He knew that Zack must have got it and he was just playing dumb. He pulled his laughing friend towards him, pressing their lips together firmly._

 

“_I _like _you,” he said again and this time he was sure Zack got the message._

 

*

 

Cloud told Angeal everything that had happened on the boat and the man was rightfully alarmed. Luckily the Conte held true to his word and they received no calls from the guard. They immediately decided to quit Venice and move elsewhere. Within a week their things were packed and they were ready to leave town.

 

All but Zack.

 

Cloud had refused to let him come with them, pointing out that he had responsibilities that had to be taken seriously. He wished him well in his marriage, kissed him softly goodbye and didn't look back as he left. It was like leaving the other half of himself that day, but he knew he'd done the right thing.

 

Zack would have been happy with him, he knew that, but Zack would be happier when he'd done something truly honourable. A life as a thief had been fun for Zack, but he would never have been able to do what Cloud did to protect the other's in the band. It was for the best.

 

It was always _for the best_.

 

Arriving in Florence kept Cloud busy and his mind on setting them up. They quickly found a church with an ailing priest and, with a little helping of poison, the priest passed on and left the church to his newest acolytes. Within the year, Angeal, Cloud and Tseng were thought of as normalities in the neighbourhood.

 

They planned their first robbery in their second year when their lifestyle was beginning to get strained by lack of funds. It was meant to be an easy job and Cloud was sent to it alone. The hunting lodge of an Earl. Easy pickings.

 

The moment he took a sip of the wine though, his thoughts were thrown back to that night. He looked around the room, suspicious. Sure enough he was soon introduced to the Earl Gallo, a man with an impressive mane of silve hair and a smirk that Cloud knew most intimately.

 

“I thought you were a Venetian Conte,” Cloud said. Sephiroth smirked and took a deep drink of his wine.

 

“I'm surprised you didn't notice how many stolen objects there were in my barge, Cloud,” he replied and then downed his wine.

 

“Excuse me, but we appear to have the same target here,” he said and pressed the empty goblet into Cloud's hand. Cloud watched, completely dumbstruck as Sephiroth proceeded to pocket some of the silver and then disappear into the garden. He didn't return.

 

“He's a _thief_! The richest man in Venice is a bloody thief!” he exclaimed to himself, looking down at Sephiroth's empty goblet in his hand.

 

He began to laugh.


End file.
